


Ten More Scenes at Further Stages of Domesticity

by sarcasticsra



Series: Domesticity [2]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Curtain Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-19
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-27 14:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticsra/pseuds/sarcasticsra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what it says on the tin. A companion/sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/261152">Ten Scenes at Varying Stages of Domesticity</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten More Scenes at Further Stages of Domesticity

**Author's Note:**

> The scenes in my head piled up again! So obviously that meant it was time for another one of these, lol. Thanks for the beta, Kelly.

“Remember how I’m terrible at this whole relationship thing?” Dave said without preamble, walking into Aaron’s office. “This entire situation, this would be a good example of that.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Yeah?” he asked, looking up.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’m sorry, Aaron. I am. I should’ve told you I’d gone to lunch with Tina. Or at least I should’ve told her I was in a relationship. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

“It could be a lack of confidence in the relationship.” Aaron made sure to keep his expression neutral. “Second thoughts.”

Dave raised his eyebrows. “Is that what you think?”

“The majority of your past relationships have been heterosexual,” Aaron pointed out. “It wouldn’t be unheard of.”

“The majority of my past relationships have ended in disaster,” Dave replied, shaking his head. “Damn. I knew Morgan was right, but until this second, I didn’t know just _how_ right.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You talked to Morgan about this?” That was a surprise.

“He, Prentiss, and Reid cornered me in my office,” Dave replied. “You understand me, Aaron, probably more than anyone I’ve ever known, and you do it without me having to say a word. I’m guessing it’s the same for you.”

Aaron nodded. “It is.”

“And it’s not like either of us are that great at this,” Dave added. “So of course we’re drawn to that…unspoken understanding, because it’s nice, and it’s easy. But Morgan was right. Some things do, occasionally, need to be said.” He stepped closer, leaning against Aaron’s desk. “So I’m saying it now: I’m serious, Aaron. I’m in this for the long haul. I don’t want to be with Tina or anyone else. It’s you. That’s why I asked you and Jack to move in.”

He allowed himself a small smile. “It’s good to hear,” he said, pausing briefly. “I married my high school sweetheart, Dave. I don’t do things halfway.”

“That I definitely know,” Dave replied. “You wouldn’t be Aaron Hotchner if you did.”

“And you and I…it’s been an adjustment,” he continued. “I’ve been in one other relationship in my life. There are some things I’m not used to.” His tone turned wry. “The last time I had to deal with a partner’s ex, I was eighteen. It was prom.”

Dave smiled. “Understood,” he said, meeting his eyes.

Smiling back, satisfied, Aaron nodded.

Dave glanced at the clock. “We should probably get out of here.”

“Good idea,” he said, gathering a few files as he stood. He placed them into his bag and headed for his jacket, but Dave stopped him, reaching out to grab his arm. Aaron turned as Dave stood, which put them face-to-face.

“So now that I’ve done the telling,” he said, leaning in, his hand warm on Aaron’s bicep, “maybe after Jack goes to bed, I can take care of the showing?”

Aaron smiled, small and pleased. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Dave grinned, tugging lightly on his tie. He drew him in for a quick kiss. “Let’s go home.”

*

“You actually _moved_ and didn’t tell me,” said the voice on the other end of the phone as soon as he answered, without introduction.

“Hi, Sean,” Aaron said dryly.

“Don’t ‘hi Sean’ me, you jackass. I just spent ten minutes knocking on an empty apartment door before your old landlord stopped me and told me you’d moved out. Where do you live now?”

“If you would actually answer your phone…”

“This is so not my fault it’s not even funny.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.” He rattled off the address.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

They hung up, and Aaron glanced at Dave. “Sean’s in town, apparently. He’s on his way over.”

“You haven’t told him yet.” It wasn’t remotely a question.

“I haven’t.” He met his eyes. “Here goes nothing.”

“I’ll go let Jack know he’s coming.” He stood and headed for Jack’s room.

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang, and Aaron rose to answer it. Jack beat him there, waiting anxiously. “Uncle Sean!” he said, as soon as Aaron opened the front door, greeting Sean with what could only be described as a tackle-hug.

Sean grinned at Jack and tousled his hair, hugging him back. “Hey, Jack,” he said, then glanced up at him, raising his eyebrows. “So either the FBI has suddenly started giving out huge bonuses, or you’ve secretly turned to a life of crime. Which is it?”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Neither. Let’s get out of the foyer.”

“You have a _foyer_ now,” Sean said. They moved into the living room, where Dave was seated on the couch. He frowned. “Agent Rossi?”

“Call me Dave,” he said.

“I just drew the _best_ picture,” Jack told him. “This morning. I have to show you. There’s a shark and a knight and a lion and everything. Hold on, I left it in Daddy and Uncle Dave’s room, I’ll be right back!” He hurried off.

Sean stared at him in Jack’s absence. Aaron heaved a sigh and looked at Dave, who only smirked. “You should have been quicker about it. Maybe he wouldn’t have beaten you to the punch.”

Aaron shook his head. “There was a third option,” he told Sean. “‘Or your partner is disgustingly wealthy.’ That’s the reason for all…this.” He waved a hand around, indicating the spacious house.

“I prefer ‘filthy rich’, thank you very much,” said Dave, still smirking. He wasn’t fooled—there was an extra layer of tension underneath all that casual.

Sean was still staring. “So not only didn’t you tell me you moved, you also didn’t tell me you were with someone seriously enough that moving in could be an option?”

“Yeah. Like I said. Sorry.”

“Man, you _suck_ at sharing things, you know that?” Sean said, shaking his head. “Here I was feeling bad because I hadn’t told you I had a new girlfriend, and it turns out you’ve been keeping secrets that are way bigger.” He paused. “Actually, that makes me feel better about myself, so thank you for that.”

Aaron rolled his eyes again, but he felt himself relax. He noticed Dave do the same.

Jack returned then with his picture. “Here it is!” he said, proudly holding it up for Sean to see.

“Oh, man, it looks awesome,” said Sean, and Aaron smiled to himself.

*

Aaron paused as he looked through his side of the closet. “Did some of your things get mixed in with mine?” he asked.

Dave walked out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry. “What was that?”

“I asked if some of our clothes got mixed up.”

“You’re even more organized than I am and I was in the Marines,” Dave said dryly. “I highly doubt it.”

“In that case,” Aaron said, pulling out an expensive-looking grey suit that he most definitely had never bought, “I have to ask: whose is this?”

Dave smiled, saying nonchalantly, “Looks like your size to me.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow and checked the tags. “It is.”

“Then I’d say it’s yours.”

“Really,” Aaron said skeptically, because he’d also noticed the label. “And since when, exactly, do I own Armani?”

Dave smirked. “Since you started living with a man with _taste_.”

Aaron rolled his eyes at him. Dave only smirked wider.

*

“I think we’re going to turn in for the night,” Rossi said, standing. He stretched.

“Good night, everyone,” added Hotch, also standing up. They left, heading for the doors.

“Oh, man, Hotch left his wallet,” Morgan said, picking it up off the table.

“I’ll catch up to them,” Garcia said, standing. She took it from him, hurrying for the door, glancing around for where Hotch’s car was, remembering it was around the corner. Quickening her pace, she turned and spotted it—as well as the two men pressed up against it. Hotch and Rossi were _kissing_. Rather heatedly, if the way Rossi was pinning Hotch to the car was any indication. When they broke apart, Rossi leaned in and murmured something into Hotch’s ear; whatever it was, Hotch seemed to approve, what with the way he kissed Rossi again, deeply.

 _Naughty boys_ , she thought with a grin, and turned, heading back inside. When she reached the table, Morgan frowned at her. “You miss them?” he asked, indicating the wallet still in her hand.

“Not as such, no,” she said, smirking, as she sat back down. “But let’s just say I didn’t want to interrupt. I can give our fearless leader his wallet back tomorrow morning.”

“You mean they’re—in the parking lot?” Reid asked, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline.

Morgan let out a long laugh.

*

They barely made it in the door before Dave found himself pressed up against it. Aaron kissed him hungrily, making him drop his keys and his bag, and he kissed him back, arms pulling him even closer. “That poker face of yours,” he gasped when they broke apart, meeting his eyes. “You even fooled me.” He kissed him again, pushing his jacket off his shoulders, and he felt Aaron do the same. Aaron’s hands were soon on his chest, undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt, and they kept kissing, almost desperately, urgently. “I’m here, Aaron,” he groaned, before diving back in for another kiss.

“You’d better be,” he breathed, eyes dark with lust and need.

“Always,” he replied, loosening Aaron’s tie. He slipped it off his neck, tossing it to the floor. “Always, Aaron.” He kissed him again, groaning when Aaron pressed their hips together. He was always so _hot_ , as if every last bit of that intensity, that _focus_ , somehow converted to a kind of heat that would put the sun to shame. Dave could never get enough of it. “Bed?” he managed, and Aaron nodded, slowly backing away.

“Let’s go.”

Aaron led the way to their bedroom, but Dave kept close, touching him, feeling that heat. He pressed him against the wall once they were in the hallway, having shed shoes and socks on the way, and he kissed him urgently. Aaron groaned, kissing back hard, obviously losing himself in it.

They stood there for several minutes, kissing heatedly, and Dave took the opportunity to undo Aaron's belt, pulling it away and letting it drop to the floor. Aaron followed suit, then took it one further, unzipping his fly and sliding a hand inside.

Dave groaned as Aaron grasped his cock, stroking lightly, and started undoing the buttons on his shirt. He pushed it off his shoulders and broke their kiss to move to his neck—specifically, the spot right above his clavicle. Aaron gasped, throwing his head back, and sped up his strokes; then he swallowed and suddenly moved, abruptly pressing Dave against the opposite wall, kissing him hard.

Between Aaron’s tongue in his mouth, his hand on his cock, and all that _heat_ effectively pinning him to the wall, it was hard for Dave to string a coherent thought together, but he did manage to mumble, “We’re still vertical, and, _fuck_ —” He stopped as Aaron’s hand twisted just so, interrupting his train of thought. They kissed again, hungrily, and Dave let his hands slide lower on Aaron’s back. Soon he was gripping his ass, tugging him closer, as he chased down the rest of his sentence. “—and, _ah_ , wearing too many clothes.”

Aaron chuckled and kissed him before stepping back again, this time to actually make it into the bedroom. Dave jumped at the opportunity to get Aaron’s pants off him, and before long, they were falling into bed, Dave pulling Aaron on top of him. They kissed and moaned as their erections brushed together, and then Dave sucked and bit at the spot on Aaron’s neck; he was rewarded when Aaron’s hips bucked wildly against his, making them both cry out.

Aaron met his eyes, and Dave nodded; things between them often came down to an unspoken understanding, and deciding who topped was just another item on the list. As they kissed again, passionately, Aaron reached for the bottle of lube they kept in the nightstand drawer, along with a condom.

He heard the bottle open, and watched through lidded eyes as Aaron coated his fingers. When he pressed one inside him, then another, Dave groaned, pressing back against Aaron’s hand as he stretched him.

He was always so maddeningly careful about this, adding a third finger as Dave writhed under him. “ _Aaron_ ,” he growled, his eyes snapping shut and hips jerking when he hit his prostate. “ _Now_.”

Aaron’s fingers withdrew seconds later; he heard the faint rustling of the condom package, and then he felt him push inside him, slowly. Dave moaned loudly, reaching for him, and opened his eyes. Their gazes locked, and Aaron started thrusting, fast and hard, not even bothering with the pretense of teasing, and he yelled, “ _Fuck_ , Aaron.”

There was that _heat_ again; he could feel it keenly, like it was trying to consume him whole, and maybe it was—things had been rough today, and obviously Aaron wasn’t holding it together as tightly as he thought. His thrusts kept increasing in speed and power, their noises of pleasure filling the air, and Dave could only think it felt something akin to being swallowed by the sun.

“Aaron,” he gasped, needing air, _always needing air_. Aaron reached between them, grasping his cock and stroking. “Aaron, I’m here,” he repeated through a groan. “Always.”

“I know,” Aaron half-moaned, half-gasped. “I know.” His angle shifted, and Dave cried out, eyes snapping shut again.

“ _Fuck_ , here, always here.”

From there, it was all syllables and wordless moans, and a thick envelope of heat, and when he felt a familiar tingling at the base of his spine, he managed, “ _Close_ ,” and Aaron’s hand on his cock sped up. With two more thrusts, he came hard, shouting something that might have been a mix of _Aaron_ and _here_.

Aaron gasped as he clenched around him, still thrusting powerfully, and he watched his face through the haze of his orgasm. He saw as well as felt when he came, arms wrapping tightly around him.

Dave gasped for breath as Aaron collapsed half on top of him, breathing erratic. “Christ,” he muttered, somehow once again finding the capacity for speech. “You know you’re getting old when life-affirming sex almost kills you.”

Aaron’s laugh was breathless. “Yeah.”

*

“It’s unprofessional,” Aaron said.

Dave rolled his eyes. “It’s for two nights. It’s a place to sleep.”

“While we’re on the job—”

He gave him a look. “Aaron, neither of us is going to be in the mood. Besides, it saves the Bureau money. I’m sure they’ll be in favor of that.”

“But what message does it send?”

“It sends the message that we’re tired and too damn old to worry about idle gossip.” He shook his head. “It’s not like we need to advertise it. It _is_ just a place to sleep. We double up when we have to anyway—there’s just no reason to expense an extra room when we don’t need it.”

“That’s what this is?” Aaron asked, raising an eyebrow. “Fiscal responsibility?”

“You doubt me?”

“I’ve seen you spend forty dollars on a block of cheese,” he said dryly.

“Using personal details against me? Now who’s being unprofessional?” Dave smirked.

Aaron rolled his eyes. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

*

Hotch actually nodded off on the plane ride home, head resting slightly on Rossi’s shoulder. Rossi, for his part, was looking at Hotch like he was the only other person on the plane, a small smile gracing his lips.

Morgan snorted to himself. “Someone’s been run ragged,” he commented quietly, so as not to wake Hotch.

Rossi started—barely, but it was there. Morgan smirked. “Yeah,” Rossi said. “I’m thinking a vacation might be in order.”

“Hotch? Take a vacation?” Morgan raised an eyebrow. “He even know what the word means?”

“He did. I may have to reintroduce it into his vocabulary,” he said dryly.

“Better make sure it’s somewhere far away,” Morgan said sagely. “Preferably with little cell or Internet access.”

“Out of the country, definitely,” Rossi said, looking thoughtful. “Maybe Milan.”

“Italy? Nice choice.” He smirked wider. “Very romantic, like a honeymoon.”

Rossi rolled his eyes. “All right, Morgan, I’ve got to ask—what exactly is your obsession with us getting married?”

“Oh, come on, man,” he said, shaking his head. “You found it, you know? The real damn thing. That doesn’t come around all that often. You have to grab on with both hands and never let go.”

Rossi glanced back at Hotch, still asleep on his shoulder. He smiled slowly. “Yeah,” he said, after a moment. “Yeah, all right. I know what you mean.”

“Exactly,” Morgan said, giving him a significant look.

Rossi just kept smiling.

*

Dave kissed Aaron lazily, draping an arm around his waist, watching him fondly. God, but he was a sight to see like this, post-sex: relaxed, open, almost vulnerable. Dave could never get enough of it.

“You’re staring,” Aaron said dryly, after a moment.

Dave only grinned. “Can you blame me?”

Aaron glanced over and met his eyes, a smile curving on his lips. He leaned in and kissed him slowly.

“Do you remember the day we first met?” Dave asked him suddenly, and Aaron raised an eyebrow.

“Of course. I’d just transferred.”

“At first I was thinking, great, some know-it-all, pain-in-the-ass rookie I’m going to have to train out of all the wrong ways of thinking,” Dave said, smirking. “You were much more thoughtful than I expected. Smart enough to know you had a lot to learn.”

“You were…pretty much _entirely_ not what I expected. Even with all the gossip forewarning me.” He smirked.

“That wasn’t just gossip.” Dave gave him a grin. “You know I wanted you that day, right?”

That caught Aaron by surprise, which was even easier to see when he was like this. “You did not.”

“No, I did.” He smirked. “Because while you were more thoughtful than I expected, you were still _eager_. I wondered how eager you might be…in other situations.”

Aaron averted his eyes, smiling just a little. “I had no idea,” he admitted.

“I’m not surprised.” He smiled faintly. “The way you are, Aaron, when you love someone, you love them with everything you have, and it completely blocks out anyone else who might be interested. Which can suck for those on the other side, but for us?” He let his smile widen. “It’s kinda nice.”

Aaron responded to that by kissing him again, deeply. Dave pulled him closer.

*

"Nice suit, Hotch," Morgan commented.

Hotch smiled slightly. "Thank you," he said. "It was a gift."

"Yeah?" Morgan asked, grinning. "From Rossi?"

"Is there someone else who would buy Hotch a two thousand dollar Italian suit?" Prentiss asked, smirking.

"Man, Rossi'd better hope not," Morgan replied, amused. "So what's the occasion? Anniversary's today, right?"

Hotch gave him a sidelong look. "Do you have these dates marked down somewhere, Morgan?"

"Of course not, o’ wise one. I have an alert set up. I reminded him," Garcia said as she joined them.

"Well, that’s much better," Hotch deadpanned.

"Where is Rossi, anyway?" Prentiss asked, glancing around.

"I had to come in early today for an administrative meeting," Hotch replied. "He should be here shortly."

"Wait," Morgan said, grin returning to his face. "You mean Rossi hasn't seen you yet?"

"No," Hotch said, tone completely neutral.

Morgan laughed. "That's cold, man."

"What's cold?" asked a familiar baritone; Rossi walked up to them. He stopped when he got a look at Hotch—and it was a _good_ look, too. He checked out every inch of Hotch in his expensive, perfectly-tailored, grey Italian suit. "Aaron," he said in a too-even tone. "Nice suit."

"You have good taste," Hotch replied. His expression was very blank, but Morgan could tell he was enjoying this.

"I do," Rossi agreed, tone still a little off. "Shall we get started?"

"Let's go." Hotch led the way to the conference room. Morgan smirked when he caught Rossi's eyes cut downward as they walked away.

"Is it me, or did Rossi saying 'nice suit' kinda sound more like 'nice suit, but why are you still wearing clothes?'" Garcia whispered.

“No, baby girl, that wasn't just you," Morgan whispered back. "I'm thinking it's a good thing Hotch had to leave first. If Rossi had seen him in that suit before they'd left the house, I'm pretty sure we'd be two men down today."

Garcia laughed as they headed toward the conference room.

*

“Melanie, can I ask you somethin’?” Jack said at lunch.

She looked up from her juice box and nodded. “Course.”

“What do you call your mommies?”

“Mommy and Mama,” she said promptly. “Why?”

“Me and Daddy live with Uncle Dave now,” Jack told her. “His house is _so big_ and he makes popcorn on the _stove_.”

“Whoa,” Melanie said. “That’s cool.”

“It is,” Jack agreed sagely. “But what I mean is…he’s not just my daddy’s friend, right? He’s a special friend, like my mommy was.”

“Right,” Melanie said, nodding.

“And he takes care of me too, like Daddy,” Jack continued. He glanced around, lowering his voice and adding, “When he reads me a story, his bad guy voice is even _better_ than Daddy’s.”

Melanie grinned. “Mama plays bad guys better than Mommy,” she said, nodding understandingly.

“So he’s kinda my daddy too,” Jack said. “I don’t wanna call him Uncle Dave anymore.”

“Makes sense,” Melanie said. “You could call him Papa.”

Jack made a face. “I don’t think that’s right.”

“Hmmm.” Melanie sucked on her straw, clearly thinking hard. “Oh! My friend Steph calls her daddy Pop. What about that?”

“Pop,” Jack said, considering. He grinned. “I like that. Thanks, Melanie!”

She grinned back. “Welcome.”

\---

“Daddy, I need to ask you somethin’ important.”

“What is it, Jack?” Aaron asked, looking up from the file he’d been reading. He closed it and set it aside, patting the couch cushion next to him. Jack climbed up next to him.

“I don’t wanna call Uncle Dave ‘Uncle Dave’ anymore,” he said. “‘Cause he's not just your friend, and he takes care of me and stuff. I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout it for awhile and I talked to Melanie too, and she said it made sense,” he added. “So would it be okay if I called him Pop?”

Aaron didn’t know how exactly to react to that, shock and delight and even something that might be fear all rushing to the forefront. Keeping all those emotions at bay, he smiled and said, “It’s okay with me. You should ask him.”

Jack nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. I will.” He got up and headed down the hall, toward the den. Aaron rose and followed him, watching from the doorway.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Jack said to Dave, who nodded and paused whatever he’d been watching—looked like some sort of documentary about Prohibition.

“Of course you can,” Dave replied, glancing up at Aaron curiously. Aaron just smiled faintly.

“I think you’re kinda like my daddy now too,” Jack said. “You take care of me and read me stories and watch movies and stuff,” he continued. “And other things that daddies do. So I was wonderin’ if I could call you Pop instead of Uncle Dave.”

The expression on Dave’s face went from stunned to beaming in about two seconds flat. “Absolutely, Jack,” he said, grinning at him and drawing him in for a hug.

Jack grinned just as wide and hugged back tightly. When he pulled away, he said, “Cool! I can’t wait to tell Melanie tomorrow.” He jumped up and ran out of the room.

Dave looked at Aaron. “I can’t stop grinning,” he said.

Aaron smiled more widely, stepping into the room and sitting down next to him on the couch. He pulled him into a deep kiss, resting their foreheads together. “I love you,” he said suddenly, fiercely.

Dave met his eyes. “Love you too, Aaron,” he said, smiling as he drew him in for another passionate kiss.


End file.
